


An Unexpected Guest

by Marathon_Zack_140_6



Series: The Romanogers Story [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Embarrassed Steve Rogers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Nightmares, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marathon_Zack_140_6/pseuds/Marathon_Zack_140_6
Summary: What happens immediately following the close of CA:WS. Or, Steve and Nat meet up again after Winter Soldier. Romanogers.





	An Unexpected Guest

As Steve watched Nat's car drive away, he heard Sam ask a question.

"What?" he asked, as he turned around to look at his friend.

"I was just asking where we're going to now," replied Sam.

Steve thought for a moment, before replying, "New York. Stark Tower. My apartment's shot to hell, and anyway HYDRA knows where it is, so I can't go back there. Plus, if we're going to hunt down Bucky, we're going to need transportation, and Stark's got a Quinjet hopefully he'll let us borrow."

Steve's phone beeped, and he looked at it. "Speaking of which, Nat apparently talked to Stark, because his Quinjet is inbound, eta 20 min."

Twenty minutes later, Steve rode his motorcycle up the back ramp of the Quinjet, and he and Sam hopped off. The ramp closed as the jet lifted into the sky and took off. Soon they landed on the top of Avengers Tower, greeted by a positively beaming Tony Stark.

"You guys are absolutely going to love this place!" he said as soon as the ramp opened enough for him to see them. "After we destroyed the upper floors in the Battle of New York, I completely remodeled all the top half of the building."

He then went on to rattle off about everything he'd done to the tower over the past two years as he showed them around. He had set apart the upper floors as living quarters for the Avengers; each of the six Avengers had their own floor, and the two floors below that had several apartments each in case extra living space was needed. Sam had been given his pick of these rooms. There were also training rooms, a gym, an indoor range, and a whole slew of other things Tony had added in the rebuild.

* * *

A month after they moved in, Steve was riding the elevator down to his floor. He and Sam had just gotten back from an overnight trip to Austria in search of Bucky. The trail for Bucky had turned up empty handed, but they had been ambushed by a HYDRA outpost, and had to fight their way back to the Quinjet. He was looking forward to a good night's rest, before returning to the drawing board in the morning.

The elevator door opened and he stepped into the foyer of his floor. JARVIS immediately unlocked his door for him, and he opened it and walked in. Steve still wasn't used to not having a key, but he trusted Tony's AI security enough not to complain, and it _was_ nice not having to carry a key around. Having an entire floor of a giant tower to himself was also weird, but he really appreciated the gesture, and he spent most of his time searching for Bucky or in the gym training, anyway.

He set his shield on its hanger next to the front door, and headed towards his bedroom to take a shower. He opened the door to his bedroom, and froze.

"Hey Soldier," smirked Natasha Romanov from where she sat on his bed, leaned back against the wall, reading what looked to Steve from across the room to be a fashion magazine.

"Natasha!" Steve exclaimed in surprise. He certainly hadn't expected to see her anytime soon; a month ago she was headed who knows where to find a new cover, since all of hers were now on the internet.

"These things are completely ridiculous," said the super spy, tossing the magazine down on the bed in his direction. "I can't believe Pepper likes reading them. I mean honestly, who needs ten different types of cocktail dresses in ten different colors? You can't possibly wear all of them. Seriously, who needs that?"

"Um, someone who goes to more parties than terrorist bases?" replied Steve hesitantly, unsure if it was a rhetorical question or not, and still wondering why she was even here in the first place. Not that he minded it at all, he just wasn't expecting it.

"But why not just wear the same dress to multiple parties?"

He certainly agreed with her there. If it was a nice dress, he certainly wouldn't mind seeing her in it multiple times.

"Don't _you_ have a lot of dresses for all your undercover missions?"

"Yeah, but I actually need multiple outfits because I'm going undercover as different people. If I go to two different parties as two different people but wear the same dress, somebody's bound to get suspicious. Normal women don't have that problem, so why would they need a new dress for every party? Anyway, I didn't pay for hardly any of my dresses, and all the clothes in all my safehouses combined still wouldn't be adequate according to that," she replied, pointing at the magazine.

"Where'd you even get this?" asked Steve, picking up the magazine; the latest issue of _Vogue_. The cover featured a blonde who looked surprisingly similar to Nat, except for the hair color. Some actress named Scarlet Johansson or something, according to the cover. "Doesn't seem like your kind of reading material. I would have expected something more along the lines of Guns Digest or the latest CIA defense report."

"Pepper gave it to me, said I should get the dress on page 42."

Steve flipped to the page, and his eyebrows shot into his hair. It was a low-cut, strapless evening gown with a sweetheart neckline; a dark emerald color that would highlight Natasha's green eyes and contrast perfectly with her flame-red hair and pale skin. He instantly pictured Nat wearing it, and then instantly regretted it as he knew he wouldn't be getting _that_ image out of his head anytime soon. He quickly shut the magazine and tossed it back on the bed like it had burned him, but not before he saw Nat smirking at him, like she could read his mind. Which he had more than once had reason to suspect she could.

"Um...It would, uh...You would look quite nice in it, I'm sure," stuttered Steve, his words stumbling over each other in their haste to leave his mouth, his face turning a lovely shade of crimson (that incidentally would have also contrasted quite nicely with the dress).

"So what are you doing here?" he asked quickly, trying to change the subject. "I thought you were taking some time to find a new cover."

Thankfully Nat didn't try to embarrass him any further, and went with his change of subject.

"I was, but Fury convinced me to try giving 'Natasha Romanov, 'hero' in the Battle of New York', a chance."

The way she sarcastically said 'hero' made Steve feel more than a twinge of sadness that she couldn't accept the fact that she really had been just as much a hero as the rest of them in the battle against the Chitauri.

"And he said SHIELD is rebuilding, and as the senior surviving agents, he wants us back in the field going after the remaining parts of HYDRA from time to time, and sent me to recruit you. We'll officially just be Avengers, doing contract work for a SHIELD that doesn't officially exist."

Now that sounded like the Nick Fury Steve knew.

"And he sent you to recruit me."

"Some reason he thinks you trust me," she smirked back, both of them clearly recalling their conversation in Sam's spare bedroom just over a month ago. For some reason it didn't surprise Steve in the least that Fury somehow knew about that.

Before he could respond, Natasha continued, "It'll just be the occasional mission, just the two of us at the beginning, and eventually a new strike team once Fury's found some agents who are still loyal to SHIELD. You'll still be able to hunt for Bucky most of the time."

Steve nodded slowly. "This isn't really a choice, is it?"

"If Fury sent you a mission to help take down HYDRA, could you really ignore it?"

Steve sighed. He really couldn't. If he saw a situation pointed south, he couldn't ignore it. He sat down on the edge of his bed, next to Natasha's feet.

"All right. I'm in," he said, looking over at her.

"Good. Because we leave for Spain in three days."

Steve just chuckled lightly and shook his head, before something suddenly dawned on him.

"Wait — how did you get in here? The floors are all biometrically locked, or something scientific like that."

"You don't think JARVIS would let a poor, innocent girl onto a floor if she asked nicely?" asked Nat in an overly innocent tone with a slight pout of her lips and bat of her eyelids.

"So you threatened to rewrite his code," replied Steve, nodding knowingly, and chuckling lightly.

"Actually no, not this time. JARVIS just let me in whenever I got off the elevator; didn't have to say a thing. Although I had already asked him if you were here, so when I still went to your floor after he said you were out, he probably figured the easy thing to do was just go ahead and let me in, and not try to challenge me."

* * *

That night, Steve was jolted awake by a nightmare. He had them most nights, but that didn't make them any more pleasant.

He walked into his kitchen to get a glass of water before heading back to bed. He'd just filled his glass up when he heard a soft whimpering coming from the living room. He walked over to where he could see Nat sleeping on his couch.

They had eaten supper together, Steve cooking for them, and then watched a couple movies on his couch. Despite having her own floor right below his, she made no moves to leave when Steve wished her goodnight. Steve had then offered her his spare bedroom when it became obvious she wasn't planing on going anywhere, but she just curled up on his couch and threw the blanket he kept hanging on the back of the couch over herself, and pretend to be asleep. So Steve had turned out all the lights and went to bed.

But now she was writhing slightly, hands gripping the edge of the blanket so tightly he could see her knuckles gleaming white in the dark, and moaning lightly. Sure signs of nightmare if he'd ever seen any; and he did have some slight firsthand experience on the subject.

He crossed the floor, and sat down on the edge of the couch, and shook her gently. He suddenly found himself pinned down flat on his back on the floor, a knife ( _where had she been hiding that?_ ) at his throat, and a wild looking red-head looming over him. But before he could say anything, Natasha recognized him, and quickly rolled off of him, laying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavy.

Steve sat up, leaning sideways against the couch, and looked down at his teammate, and roommate for the night. Her chest was still heaving, distractingly noticeable in the clothes she was sleeping in; a thin camisole that didn't leave much to the imagination, and underwear. She must have gotten up sometime after he went to bed and changed, or more likely just taken off her outer layers, since Steve hadn't seen a travel bag anywhere in his apartment.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen her in various states of undress before — he'd seen her changing into and out of her catsuit on missions plenty of times — but it still always made him blush. So before his mind could wander anywhere he knew it shouldn't, he distracted himself by asking the question he already knew the answer to. "Nightmare?"

Natasha just nodded, not needing to say anything out loud.

After a minute, she rolled over on her side and crawled to where she was sitting next to him, leaning into the couch and his side. Steve shifted his legs so he was sitting straight back against the couch, and moved his arm from between them and put it around her shoulder, so that she could nestle into him more comfortably. Before either of them realized it, they had both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Nat awoke the next morning nestled into the muscular side of the supersoldier, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder. As she stirred, her pillow woke as well.

"Morning, Soldier," she said sleepily, as he blinked awake. "Sleep well?"

Steve stretched before replying, "Surprisingly well for sitting against a couch. You?"

"No nightmares, so I can't complain," she said as she stood up. Steve looked away, expecting her to head to the bathroom to change back into reasonable clothes, but she just walked into the kitchen and opened his fridge. She pulled out the carton of eggs, and found a pan in one of the cabinets. Looking back over at Steve, who still hadn't moved and was staring resolutely at the floor next to his feet, she smirked to herself and asked, "Are you going to come help a poor girl make breakfast, or are you going to just sit there looking in the opposite direction blushing?"

At this, Steve finally stood up and walked over to the kitchen, his face sporting a nice shade of red, and his eyes trying to look anywhere but at her. So to break him out of his overly-gentlemanly ways, she walked up to him and leaning into him, firmly pressing her chest into his, she pulled his face down to hers and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips (okay, so maybe it was slightly less chaste than it strictly had to be, but who was questioning?).

It did its job. As she pulled away, Steve looked directly at her for the first time that morning. They made breakfast together, before chatting about their plans for the day as they ate.

* * *

A couple days later, the night before they were leaving for the mission to Spain, Natasha had just walked into Steve's kitchen to get a midnight snack. Despite having her own floor, and Steve having a spare bedroom, she had still been sleeping on Steve's couch. She had just opened the fridge when she heard a low groaning sound from Steve's bedroom; she burst into Steve's room.

The noise of her slamming his door open startled him awake, and he sat up breathing heavily. Natasha carefully made her way over to his bed and sat down, rubbing his arm lightly as he calmed down.

Once his breathing had steadied out, she softly whispered, "Lay back down."

After he had done so, she started running her hand through his hair, singing softly in Russian. He'd almost drifted back off to sleep when he felt Natasha slip down under the covers behind him.

"Nat—" he started, but she cut him off.

"Shhh...Go to sleep. I'll be right here," and put her arm around him.

The next thing Steve knew, a hand was running through his hair, and sunlight was streaming in his face. He went stiff for a second, before hearing a soft giggle behind him that could only belong to a certain world-renowned assassin — Who most certainly did not giggle. Ever. — and the night before came flooding back into his mind.

"Morning, Soldier," came the sweet voice, and he turned around to find himself staring straight into her face. She gave him a quick peck on the nose before rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

She was once again dressed the same way she'd been the previous two nights she'd slept on his couch, and Steve once again quickly looked away. So after rolling her eyes, she got up and walked around to his side of the bed, and planted herself in his line of sight before languorously stretching in front of him, showing as much skin as she possibly could.

Knowing his eyes were still on her, she turned around and strolled off towards his bathroom, a seductive sway in her hips, as she called out over her shoulder, "It's not the 1940's anymore. If a girl's showing off for you, you can look."

* * *

Over the next several months, it became routine for them to end up in Steve's bed in the middle of the night. They both frequently suffered from nightmares, and since Nat had permanently taken up residence on Steve's couch, they were close enough to hear each other if one of them was having a nightmare. Which as they resumed SHEILD missions became more and more frequent, as old memories thought to be forgotten were stirred up, resulting in them ending up sleeping together more often than not.

In addition to sleeping on his couch, Nat also spent most of her free time with Steve. Most of her workouts and sparing sessions were with Steve, since he was the only one who could challenge her, and she resumed helping him catch up with 70 years of movies, tv, songs, and everything else he'd missed in his long nap under the ice.

Despite Steve's frequent urgings for her to sleep in his spare bedroom instead of on his couch, she kept to his couch at night (unless of course one of them had a nightmare, in which case she ended up in his bed), but she did move a sizable collection of clothes into his spare bedroom, so she wouldn't have to go down a floor to change every day. She also had most of her gear there, so that she would be ready if an urgent mission came in.

Unbeknownst to them, or at least unbeknownst to Steve, the others in the Tower had begun noticing the closeness between Captain America and Black Widow.

One day, Steve walked up to the conference room for their weekly team meeting. He had just finished sparring with Nat, and knew she'd be along shortly, but the others were already there waiting for him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" asked Tony, as Steve walked into the conference room.

"Who?" asked Steve, legitimately confused. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I set you up on a blind date?"

"Well, uh..." stuttered Steve. "I don't know about that."

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought," replied Tony, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

"Just because I don't want to go on a date doesn't mean I have a girlfriend," replied Steve nervously. Natasha hadn't arrived yet, but she had a way of knowing things there was no way she could know, and he wasn't sure how well she'd take the implication that he liked her.

"Look, we all know you and Tasha are sleeping together, you don't have to hide it," chimed in Clint.

"What are you talking about? Natasha and I have never slept together," replied Steve, confused.

"Then what is she doing sneaking out of your room every morning?" said Tony.

"Oh, we aren't sleeping together. She just sleeps on my couch sometimes."

"Sometimes? Hey JARVIS, how many times has Natasha left Steve's room in the morning?" Tony asked his AI.

"Natasha has slept on Steve's floor every night since she moved in, sir," replied JARVIS.

"Rat me out again and I'll erase your programming," came Natasha's voice, startling everyone, as she walked into the conference room and stood next to Steve. She looked around at all the guys, silently daring them to say anything else. They wisely didn't.

"All right then. Now that that's settled, I think we have a meeting to have," continued Nat as she sat down, and looked at Steve expectedly.

No one mentioned Nat sleeping on Steve's floor again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have more ideas to continue this (even a story that’s mostly written, though going in a direction probably not expected (still very Romanogers friendly, don’t worry)), that I want to get out here, but considering this one has been sitting on my computer for five months, I don’t know how likely that is to happen. So if you want to see more, encourage me, and I’ll probably make it happen.  
> (Although they’ll probably be separate stories as part of a series, at least for now, since the next one will have a fair change of pace).


End file.
